


Scars in Their Multitudes

by FlickerInTheDark



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Caring, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Father-Daughter Relationship, Love, Trust, scared
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-22
Updated: 2017-04-22
Packaged: 2018-10-22 09:50:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10694541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlickerInTheDark/pseuds/FlickerInTheDark
Summary: Cosette sees something she shouldn't have and she is sent into doubt and uncertainty.





	Scars in Their Multitudes

Scars in their multitudes  
I remember the day my life changed. The day my world was twisted. I do not mean the day papa saved me. That day changed my life in a good way. But this change was less that pleasant. I was about thirteen years old one winter evening, when it happened.

I was cold and was going to grab a blanket from the hall closet. The closet by the stairs is where we keep the spare blankets and clothes. I was tiptoeing down the hallway not wanting to make the floorboards creek. I thought I was old enough to get my own blanket. If I was nine I might have called for papa. Now however, it is different. I love my father dearly, he is everything to me, but he does worry about me so. I do not want him to worry about the draftiness of my room. I got to the end of the hall and got my blanket. It was an old thing but it smelled like papa and made me feel safe.

As I was walking back to my room I passed papa's room. The door was ajar and I looked in to see a candle lit. I supposed it wasn't as late as I thought. As I looked in I saw him getting ready for bed. But what truly shocked me was when he removed his shirt. His back to me I saw it all. His back was striped with white scars. His back ravaged like meat. I didn't know what I was looking at and I took my blanket and tip toed quickly to my room.

In my room I hopped into bed. What is the meaning of this? I realized then I had never seen his back or arms. What had my papa done to deserve this? I have scars like that but mine are faded and barely visible. Did he suffer what I did? My back had a few lashes but it didn’t compare. I decided to ask in the morning. After years of mystery I was eager to know more.

When I first came and asked him who he was, he had simply told me that I was his child and he my father. He had never explained his home or his family. He would simply say his that time was dead.

The next morning we had Mass. Papa had us go to church every Sunday for as long as I lived him. I rather enjoyed church. I loved the stories and I loved singing hymns. The stained glass would flood my light blue Sunday dress in lively shades of green, red, yellow and purple. Afterward papa would buy me a treat at the bakery. I always got a chocolate petit four with stripes of vanilla icing randomly crisscrossing.

But today was different. I got up and dressed as usual. I came down for breakfast earlier than normal. Papa was still making breakfast when he turned around to see me.  
“Cosette? Why are you up so early? You didn’t need to wake up for another 45 minutes. Are you alright Cosette?” he asked worried.

“Yes, Papa. I am well,” I said.

Papa looked relieved. He was tired this morning, the hollows of his eyes were darker and he kept yawning.

“Papa?” I asked hesitantly.

“Yes Cosette?” he asked with his back to me.

In that moment I decided not to ask. It wasn’t my place. But still, who really was I living with? We ate breakfast and discussed the day. We would go to Mass and weather permitting we would take a stroll after.

We went to church as usual but the sermon was about Job. I was very uneasy today and wasn't thinking holy thoughts like I should have. I was distracted by what I had seen last night. I listened as the priest told of God taking Job's animals and wealth. I pondered at how through all of this Job still kept his faith in God. I decided if Job could accept God's mystery, then I could accept papa's mystery.

When Mass was over papa grabbed my hand. "Cosette. Are you all right? I noticed you were distracted today," he said looking down at me.

"I am fine. Thank you, “I said.

We arrived at the bakery and papa was a out to ask the woman for my usual petit four with the white icing when I told him I did not want it. Papa seemed shocked. I had always insisted on the same treat. But I noticed the small cake looked a lot like his back. I decided on an apple tart.

“Cosette, are you truly all right?” he asked turning and coming to my level. His grey eyes pierced me. I knew lying to one’s parent was a grievous sin. I decided to go home and repent, because I had to lie. I didn’t want him to know I knew. I felt I had some secret I wasn’t meant to have. But papa knew me too well. I was itching with curiosity and it showed. I decided if papa could keep his secret I could too.

“Yes, papa,” I said.

Papa didn’t move for a few seconds. His eyes were fixed on me. Deciding I was fine, we went for a stroll. But the lie ate up inside. I wasn’t truly all right. I had questions to begin with and on top of that I had just lied to my papa for the first time.

When we got home, papa suggested I take a nap. He said he knew something was wrong and that I looked tired. But having no proof he was left to simply suggest. I agreed, mostly to have a moment to think.

When we came home I went straight to my room. I needed to pray to someone. I had to tell someone about my feelings or I would burst. I knelt by my bed, because I wasn’t sure where else to pray. I put my palms together like papa taught me and began.

Dear Lord please forgive me. I lied to my papa today. I know it is wrong but I could not see another way. I know how he worries and I didn’t want to cause trouble. I saw something that scares me. Please Lord, let my papa’s, scars not be a sign of evil. I love him I do, but I am so scared. 

I was about to finish my prayer when I heard a scuff. I turned around and I saw papa. He was standing in my open doorway. I must have been so eager to talk to God about this that I had not the mind to shut the door. Then while praying I was so concentrated on the prayer I must have not heard him walk up. Papa’s face looked fallen. I realized I had prayed out loud like I did before bed. It was habit to pray out loud in my room.

“Cosette,” papa said.

“Oh, papa, please forgive me! I am sure you heard everything I just said,” I begged.  
Papa moved into my room and sat on my bed. He gestured for me to sit on his lap. I didn’t want to, but I knew it was the right thing to do.

Sitting down on his knee I looked at the floor. He gently moved my head so we were looking eye to eye.

“Cosette, would you like to tell me what has been troubling you?” he said tenderly. He did not sound angry, but his voice was a bit lower than usual. 

“I thought you heard me,” I bowed my head.

“No I did not, eavesdropping is impolite and you my child do not deserve rudeness,” he explained.

“Then you did not hear?”

“I heard nothing and I trust you will tell me what has you in a fit of sorts.” His eyes were kind and inviting. Of course I had been foolish to hide anything.

“I saw something I shouldn’t have,” I responded quietly.

“What did you see?” There was no judgment in his voice, not that there would have but I thought there would be something.

“I saw something. I saw your back,” I said tears forming in my eyes.

“When did you see this,” he asked. His eyes widened when I said this but his voice was still calm.

“Last night,” I whispered.

“Did it frighten you?” He brushed my hair out of my face and tilted my chin up.

“A bit. I am quite worried about you,” I said. It was true; I was worried that something terrible had happened to him or might again happen.

“Don’t be scared,” he said. I noticed he did not explain the cause of his scars like he would do when he explained my fear of the dark or spiders.

“But what if you get more scars? What if you get hurt again?”

“That my dear will never happen again. These came from my past and as I’ve told you many time’s, that time is dead. But Cosette let me ease your fears by saying that happened a very long time ago.”

“Aren’t you angry that I looked?” I was still unconvinced that he was not angry at me for something.

“No. I am a bit saddened that you felt you could not tell me from the start but that is no matter. All that matters is that you know you can tell me anything, even if you think it is silly or you think I might get cross. Chances are I will only be glad you told me. Does that sound like a deal?”

“But I shouldn’t have seen!” 

“What was meant to happen was going to happen. God meant for you to see and to glean some sort of lesson from it and I think you have.”

“Yes, papa,” I nodded but did not understand. 

“Now Cosette, why were you up? It must have been very late indeed,” he chuckled dispelling the somber mood of the room.

“Ummm,” I paused. 

“Cosette, what did I just tell you about telling me anything?” he smiled.

“I was rather cold. My room is a bit drafty and I got up to fetch a blanket. I thought I was old enough to get my own blanket and that a thirteen-year-old did not call for her papa at every demand.”

“I see, you can call me for anything. Even if you think it is silly. Now let’s take a look the window. This window does not completely close and I suppose the shutters are a bit loose. I will fix that today.”

“But it is Sunday. We aren’t supposed to do any work.”

“It is not work if it is for you.”

I nodded and I felt better. I was rather foolish, he was right. Papa would never be mad for a simple error. The rest of the day passed pleasant. I watched papa fix the window so that it shut and I saw him replace the shutters. I brought him some water and he thanked me. 

That night as he tucked me in, with an extra blanket just in case. A gnawing sense that there was still something to know bothered me. He had not told me, but maybe someday he would explain it. I would have to wait.


End file.
